Ramses

Some time ago I met a man
Who lived by choice without his hair
And told me why it was not strange
In his palace, loitering.

But I could see this was no time
To give delusion attention,
For things were – just as simple – strange;
So why would such a man,

A king of beauty, gleam around
The spoiling power of the blue
And wear a thing like a soft mat
For lager, on his glint?

“Some time ago I was a man
Who chose to take off all my hair
A woman took it cupped and strung
And hung it up for price.”

It was dull, it was more solid –
Daily shaven, under, twice…